Blood. Why was there so much blood? Andy felt like she was soaked in it. It had all gone so terribly wrong. Her memory was like a haze, it felt too much like watching a movie.
They had driven in total silence to the pick-up point, where Raven and another girl (she called herself 'Buffy') had gotten out with the bags with god-knows what in them. Andy and a few others were told to keep watch on the outskirts of the compound. Andy was assigned a place where she could barely see what was going on. But hey, who would put the new girl close where she could actually see something interesting?
When the other party had arrived, and the hand-off was just about to begin, a new car was approaching in the distance and everybody was running and shouting at once.
She couldn't understand what was said, but by the authoritative tone of their voices she understood that the newcomers were most likely cops.
Shots were fired (was it them? Or the cops? And which side was she supposed to be on?), and Andy sought cover behind a parked car. More shots, shouting. She tried to calculate the location of the shooters, but they were already moving away from her position. Then, an agonizing scream. Who was that?
In the dark, she could make out a figure on the ground, barely moving, and people running in the background.
Despite her heart, which was nearly beating out of her chest, Andy crawled her way over to the moaning figure. Raven? She was shaking like a leaf, and the gaping wound in her chest seemed to have accumulated a large pool of blood.
Andy put pressure on the wound while trying to get Raven's attention, sorely missing her trusty police radio being handy on her belt to call for help.
Two more shots were fired (were they getting closer again?), but it was hard to see anything in the dark.
Then Buffy was there, along with some of the other girls. Ignoring Andy's plea to not move her, they somehow managed to drag the now unconscious Raven to the van, and get all of the girls in before the men now chasing them reached them.
In the back of the van, which was fleeing the scene with high speed, Andy had been left to attend Raven's wounds since nobody else had any knowledge at all about first aid, and some girls preferred to cry hysterically instead of helping. She had been shot at least twice, and was gushing blood. All Andy could do was to try to slow down the bleeding with anything she could find or peaces of clothing she confiscated. She could care less about explaining how she knew how to do this; she was not going to let Raven die, just to keep her cover.
A few blocks down the van had stopped in a parking lot, and Andy and the others were ordered to help put Raven in the backseat of the car, which sped away quickly. Where were they taking her? No one was telling her anything.
They drove back in silence yet again, save for a few whimpers of one of the girls. Everybody appeared to be in shock, Andy included. They weren't brought back to the warehouse though, but to an apartment Andy hadn't been to before, where they were told to wait.
What the hell happened out there? Was there anything she could have done different? Maybe she should have paid more attention, been more aware of what had transpired, and who was involved.
What would she report about this, how to explain? If they ever left her alone that was, until now she had even been escorted to the bathroom to wash the blood off, so she had had no time to send anyone a message.
Then it hit her, like a slap in the face. Where were they, her backup-team? Shouldn't they have stopped the police from interfering in the deal, or at least tried to protect her from the flying bullets? Wasn't that what they were meant for, keep her safe?
The flashing lights bathed the area in an aerie shade of red and blue. Cops and techs were crawling around everywhere, buzzing like flies. Why did it always seem to take an officer -involved shooting to get everyone to care in this neighborhood?
Sam gave the copper on watch a nod and proceeded beyond the police tape. Good thing he had not changed out of uniform yet, so even though he had no official business being here, he fit right in. Maybe he should have taken up on Jerry's offer to come with, but that would only have given them more chance of being seen by the wrong people.
Hopefully he could get the information he wanted without any difficulties, so he could get out of here before he got himself in even more trouble than he already was.
After a discreet survey of the area, he found an officer with a rookie-look in his eyes standing alone, away from the group.
Sam walked up to him with an air of authority he normally reserved for 15's rookies alone.
"Do you have a description of the suspects?"
He had chosen wisely, the rookie almost jumped when he was talked to. He continued to frantically search trough his notebook, while stammering.
"Yes, uh, Sir. One of them had… I mean, there were at least four suspects, female…"
There was no time for this (this guy wouldn't get through the day at 15th, that he knew for sure). "Could I see that for a minute?" Sam grabbed the notepad out of his hands, scanning through the descriptions given by the officers on scene.
No mention of anyone matching Andy's height and weight, or someone with braids. But that didn't mean she wasn't there; just that she wasn't seen by her colleagues at the scene of the crime.
"Any useful camera images from the vicinity?" He handed back the notepad.
"I believe there were some from the entrance of the parking lot, Sir. But detective Donaldson took possession of the evidence already."
Bad news. "He's here?"
"Right there Sir." The rookie pointed to a spot behind Sam, right when Donaldson was looking straight at them. He might as well have worn a clown suit, there was no escaping now.
Sam reluctantly made the steps toward the detective, and gave him a slight nod.
"Swarek? I wasn't aware you had transferred to 23rd Division."
Donaldson fumbled at the collar of his oversized raincoat while barely making eye-contact. Sam took a few steps away from the commotion still going on around them; Donaldson followed him around the corner.
"Was she here?"
"Who are you referring to exactly?"
"Cut the crap, you know exactly who I mean. Was she hurt?"
Donaldson backed away from him in advance. "I don't think you're privileged to that information, are you?"
Something snapped in Sam. Maybe he could have controlled it, if he had wanted to. But he was about done with sitting around and guessing, it was about time for all of this to be done with. Plus, it felt good to finally act.
He grabbed Donaldson by that stupid collar he kept fumbling with, thrust him against the nearest wall with full force, and held him there.
"Listen, I don't know what kind of idiot plan you and whoever else have cooked up, but I'm telling you; it's done. These are peoples' life's you're dealing with."
The terror in Donaldson's eyes was somehow inexplicably satisfying.
"I could have your job for this."
"I could have your head for this. Start talking." He grasped him even tighter.
After a few moments of Sam not moving an inch and not even blinking, he saw the change in attitude from Donaldson; he knew the game was over.
"Ok, ok, it doesn't matter much now anyway. She was here; we have her on the surveillance tape. But she hasn't checked in with us yet,"
"Was she hurt?"
"We don't know for sure, but it doesn't seem like it. The surveillance tape shows her running after the shots were fired."
Sam released his grip a little, but not entirely yet.
"There was never any intention of bodily harm. It's neither your or her life we're after."
"Then what are you after?"
"Same thing you took from Boyd; his reputation, his career. He was damned good at it by the way, in case you've forgotten somehow."
Sam released him, but stayed dangerously close.
Yes, Boyd had been very good at his job, but he screwed it up himself.
"Nevertheless, he was a crook who covered up a murder for personal gain. Tell me, what was your brilliant plan to repay us for doing our job and telling the truth?"
"We know she's still in contact with you, for a while now. We've been gathering more than enough evidence to hand over to the higher-ups; I don't think your careers will survive another code-of conduct mishap, after getting off so light the last time."
Sam scoffed at the not so hidden remark.
"That's it? You chose her for a dangerous undercover operation, just to prove she would stay in contact with me? You really don't have a life of your own, do you?"
Donaldson put his hands up in defense.
"Hey, it wasn't my idea to do any of this, I just played along. We really did need a young female for this op, and since she was qualified enough, I figured why not kill two birds with one stone?"
"Then whose idea was it? Boyd?" The night was young enough to pay an old friend a visit after this was done.
"I told you, I haven't talked to Boyd in ages. I told you everything, it's over. I'm sure your girlfriend is fine. I'm not like you; I don't hang my friends out to dry. Are we done?"
"One more thing." Andy was probably going to kill him for this, but he felt like he had no choice.
"When she calls in, you tell her it's over, and you pull her out. This undercover operation is done. I don't care how you do it, but after today, she's coming home."
He fought the urge to throw the phone across the room. Idiot. Telling Swarek everything, after all the work he'd done to even convince the moron to play along? And now he knew it all, at least the part that he had led Donaldson in on.
But no worries, the plan was still solid. He had instructed her to hold McNally close, so she'd have no chance to contact anyone, or be contacted. For now.
All he needed to do now was accelerate his plans and stay calm. There were still a lot of things going for him; they hadn't found Boyd as of yet, and they had no idea who was really pulling the strings. His grand finale would be as he had imagined it. Soon.
